


The Importance of Being Subtle, Or: The Pros and Cons of Discussing Dairy Produce at 2 A.M.

by quirkysubject



Category: due South
Genre: Banter, Boyfriends, Established Relationship, M/M, POV First Person, Seduction, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-17
Updated: 2006-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:54:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23627248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quirkysubject/pseuds/quirkysubject
Summary: “Youdon’twant to talk about milk.Milkis not the issue here.” He definitely sounds agitated now and waves his finger towards me in what is nearly a stabbing motion. “You wanna tell me something, so tell me. And do itnow.”
Relationships: Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	The Importance of Being Subtle, Or: The Pros and Cons of Discussing Dairy Produce at 2 A.M.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the “Get Fraser Laid”-Challenge and originally posted on LiveJournal, 17 August 2006: https://getfraserlaid.livejournal.com/7684.html
> 
> Prompt: 72. Fraser/Kowalski - Fraser wants to have sex and therefore will not let his partner go to sleep. He thinks he's being subtle.

When I come home from work, Ray’s in bed already. He has his back propped up against the headboard and the lamp on the bedside table sheds its dimmed light over him, while he is reading.

This is the side of Ray I’ve come to discover over the last two weeks. The Ray that allows himself to unwind - that isn’t fidgety or steaming with unresolved energy. This is just Ray after a long, exhausting day, trying to forget about the nightmares he experiences at work, to forget about them at least until the new day begins.

I grin when I see his foot tapping against the mattress in a fast, steady rhythm. No, he’ll never be able to be completely at rest.

This is all fairly new to us, and I still feel a mixture of wonder and surprise when I come home to him, although, of course, I _know_ he’ll be there. But I suspect it’ll take some time to know it not only with my mind but with my heart. To truly believe it.

He draws his eyes from the book and looks at me from under his eyelashes.

“Hi, Frase!”

“Ray,” I nod and quickly stride over to him to plant a kiss on his mouth. Or maybe more.

But he leaves it at that, gives me a quick smile and turns his head to the book again.

Well, maybe he’s tired.

But while I make my way to the bathroom to take a shower, I can’t deny that I have been particularly looking forward to our lovemaking tonight. I feel a little embarrassed to admit it, but I deliberately disarrayed my hair and opened the collar of my uniform before I entered the apartment tonight, since he told me how much he likes it when I look “all messed up”.

But it’s understandable if he’s tired.

I shower quickly, then put on a fresh pair of boxers and go back to the bedroom. _Our_ bedroom. Ray has put the book aside, but is not sleeping yet; he watches me as I slide under the covers next to him. Then he turns around, switches off the lamp and nestles his back against my front, sighing comfortably. It’s our usual way of falling asleep.

So I take that as a sign and close my eyes. But the thought is nagging at me. We fall asleep like that, yes, but usually after we have made love.

Ray is always trying to convince me to be more open, to tell him what I want, what I don’t want and that I can trust him with everything. That we should be honest with each other and not “beat around the bush” all the time. So I decide to ask. If he says “no”, no harm is done, if he says “yes”, well, so much the better.

“Ray?” I ask.

He stirs a little. “Hm?”

“Do you…?” I hesitate. How can I put this without being audacious? “Did you have an arduous day at work?”

He chuckles a little. “‘Arduous’? It was hell.”

“What happened?” I ask and drop a little kiss on his hair.

“The feds being a pain in the ass because of the mobster they wanted to set up, Welsh being annoyed because of the feds, Fannie hormonating all over the place and Dewey being Dewey. Oh, and some actual police work had to be done as well.” He yawns. “The usual nightmare.”

Ray moves a little and his back accidentally touches my erection. I suppress a groan and wait for a sign that he’s noticed it. But Ray just lies there and leaves me to my silent suffering.

Again I try to go to sleep as well, but my thoughts keep wandering off into dangerous lands.

Lord, grant me the serenity…

"Would you like to accompany me to the cinema tomorrow?” Now, where did that come from?

“Sorry, Fraser, what did you say?” he mumbles.

I clear my throat. “A very interesting, new movie opened yesterday, and I was wondering if you would like to go there tomorrow night.”

“Yeah, sure thing, Fraser.”

Silence again. For a short moment, I consider going back to the bathroom to take care of the matter myself, but then I decide to give it one last try.

“Ray?”

“Yes?”

“We are out of milk.”

Ray lifts himself up on his elbow and turns halfway around to look at me, then takes a deep breath.

“Okay. Tell me.”

“Well, I considered a glass of cold milk before I came to bed and when I opened the refrigerator I noticed that…”

“Will you goddamn stop talking about milk?”

“But you…”

Ray seems to finally put the thought of sleeping aside. He sits up on the bed, legs crossed, and glares at me.

“You _don’t_ want to talk about milk. _Milk_ is not the issue here.” He definitely sounds agitated now and waves his finger towards me in what is nearly a stabbing motion. “You wanna tell me something, so tell me. And do it _now_.”

Before I have the chance to react he cuts me off again.

“And stop pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about here. What’s up? Are you hurt? Your back troubling you again? You got punched? Shot? Are you going to die?”

“Ray…”

“Or do you want to have an ‘I really love you but I think this is going too fast so I’ll go to Canada for a year’-conversation? Is it that?”

“Ray…”

“Are you pissed because I don’t get what you’re talking about immediately? Wanna give me the ‘if you loved me you’d know what was wrong’-speech?”

“ _Ray_ …”

“Or maybe it’s just about a notorious Canadian… litterer running around out there, who wants your ass because you…”

“Ray, I want to fuck you.”

Oh dear.

“Or did you do something incredibly stupid and the Ice Queen fired you and did you just say you wanna fuck me?”

He stares at me wide-eyed, and that makes it even more difficult for me to formulate an answer, an explanation, a periphrasis.

“Well, I uhm… indeed I have been thinking about…” I can see a smile slowly starting to creep over his face, quite in time with my blush.

He leans forward and puts one hand on my shoulder, pressing me onto the mattress as if he wants to hold me in check; the other one slides over my chest.

“I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or… pressure you…” His long, lean fingers find my crotch, pressing against my erection; too firmly to be ignored, too lightly to bring any release, too skilled for me to stay coherent.

“…you can “pressure” me anytime you want, Frase…”.

Still there’s this mischievous smile on his face, and his fingers on me; and all I can do is just stare at his mouth forming the word “pressure”. I know I’m still trying to explain, but it feels as if my mouth weren’t connected to my brain anymore and it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter…

I arch into his touch shamelessly, but he just chuckles and lifts his hand, so that the touch remains maddeningly light.

“Please, Ray… please…”

His mouth brushes my ear and I can feel the movement of his lips and the warm flow of his breath as he whispers.

“Say it, Frase. Say it again.”

“I… I want…”

My hands descend on Ray’s, as though they wanted to show him what I can’t say with words, but he grabs my wrists and lifts them above my head, using his weight and the advantage of gravity to hold them down.

Then he shifts and places his knees between my legs so that he teases my me with his thigh instead of his hand, and all I can do is to turn my head and groan helplessly.

His mouth is on mine now, only softly brushing. “What do you want? I want to hear it, Fraser…”

He leans in for a kiss, our tongues tangling briefly, then he draws back again and starts to suck at my neck.

“…tell me… you can tell me…”

“I… I… oh God, Ray…”

His teeth on my pulse, my erection pressing against my boxers, Ray’s scent and voice filling the air, too much, too much…

I use all my weight to flip us around so that Ray is trapped underneath me. I plunder his mouth with my tongue, forcing him to moan and arch against me.

I nibble at his earlobe, everything but gently, and trace his auricle with my tongue. “I want to fuck you, Ray.” I can feel his fingers digging into my shoulders, trying to bring me down closer to him, as if that were possible. “I want to fuck you forever, is it that what you want to hear?”

I don’t wait for an answer, don’t _care_ for an answer, and just slide down his body, remove his boxer-briefs and take him into my mouth. His breath catches in his throat as I let my tongue swirl around the head before I start sucking furiously. Ray’s hands are in my hair now, clutching and relaxing synchronously to the thrusting of his hips.

He is close, I can feel it, but not yet, Ray, not yet. I release him with one last, long swipe of my tongue, which leaves him shuddering.

“Oh Lord,” he whispers as I lift myself up onto my knees to remove my boxers and lean over to the bedside drawer to search for lubricant and condoms. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him moving, and when I turn back to him he kneels on the bed, his hands clutching the sheets.

One single drop of sweat runs down his spine and I watch it, mesmerized. Ray’s heavy breathing leads to a play of muscles and bones underneath his skin, his whole body is tensed with anticipation, and then he turns his head to look at me over his shoulder. “Do me, Fraser. Now.”

I don’t waste another second but drizzle the lube upon two of my fingers and push them into him. He throws back his head and moves one hand down to his leaking erection, but I catch it and guide it to the metal frame of the bed. “No.”

He gets the hint and grabs the iron bars with both hands, inviting me to do whatever I want.

I thrust into him with my fingers, slowly but steadily, only occasionally touching his prostate to hear him whimpering and feel him clutching his muscles around me.

I ignore his pleas to fuck him now, faster, harder, _now Fraser!_ , keeping him on the very verge of orgasm.

Finally I withdraw my fingers, while Ray just lets his head hang down between his arms, as if he were too weak to protest or do anything other to breathe his short, panting breaths.

I position myself behind him, and wait a few seconds before I slide in, just to lengthen the pleasures only anticipation can provide.

When I am inside him, finally, _finally_ , inside him, Ray starts to push back against me trying to make me move. I try to restrain myself because I know I won’t last long once I start moving and I don’t want this to end, not yet.

But I _have_ to move my hips and as soon I start I seem to lose all control, to lose all ability to go slowly or gently. Soon I feel Ray contracting around me, hear him sob my name when he orgasms, and I let go, loose myself in a rhythm that might not even be a rhythm, until I fall deep and deeper…

I didn’t notice Ray leave our bed, but I conclude that he must have done so, when I feel him kneeling next to me, cleaning me and himself with a smooth, wet towel. This state of warm drowsiness is so comfortable that I just put my arms around and pull him close to me, revelling in his proximity and the soft, startled grunt he emits when he is pressed against my chest.

The drift from this sleepy bliss into a blissful sleep is gliding, and soon I hear him moaning my name again, reliving the memories of what happened just moments ago in the bizarre, but soothingly padded realm of dreams…

“…Fraser. Fraser!”

An elbow nudging my ribs brings me back to consciousness, and when I open my eyes I look into Ray’s alarmed face.

“Fraser.” He looks worried and puts his hands around my face, to make sure he has my full attention. Now at last I am fully awake. “I think I forgot to buy shampoo.”

His ensuing mischievous grin puzzles me, and before I can think of a way to react or even try and understand what he’s doing, he has pinned me against the bed with the full weight of his body and attacks my mouth with the full onslaught of lips, tongue and teeth.

This, I think, is a kind of subtlety we can both appreciate.


End file.
